love isn't always magic
by MissingMommy
Summary: but maybe i need you :: For my lovely Laura.
1. fall into me - CharlieDraco

For my dearest Laura.

Happy birthday, darling! You deserve this fic more than you can ever imagine. You're always there to put a smile on my face and to cheer me up when I'm down. Most of the things I post are because you've given me confidence to post them.

_Because, m'dear, we're not living on borrow time; we're writing on borrow faith._

This is for you because you introduced me to this wonderful pairing, and now, we're Co-Captains.

Charlie/Draco

.

"_fall into me"_

A loud pop causes Charlie to look up from his book. Standing in the middle of the kitchen is Draco. He is paler than usual, and he's shaking. That alone is enough to make Charlie get up and make his way to him. He stands next to Draco, who is just staring towards the living room. Charlie summons chocolate, and whispers, "Here, eat this."

Draco, however, doesn't move to take the chocolate from Charlie's hand. It takes several long moments before Draco's head snaps up to meet Charlie's eyes. "It was worse than I remember," he tells Charlie without any prompting. "I thought I experienced it all the last time I was there." He averts his gaze. "But I kept hearing Mother call out Father's name in that empty voice."

Charlie places the chocolate on the counter because it's evident that Draco isn't going to eat. "What happened, Dray?"

"He didn't care," Draco growls. "He didn't care that she loved him so much that she didn't want to live without him. He didn't care that she didn't care about me. He didn't care that he's the reason our family is in shambles. _He didn't care_," he repeats. He slams his fists against the counter in anger.

But as quickly as the anger comes, it's gone. He just looks defeated. It makes Charlie want to wrap his arms around Draco and shield him from everything, but he knows Draco doesn't want that. Instead, Charlie just stands there, waiting for Draco to continue speaking. "Even after he tore our family apart because of his ideals, she still loved him. She loved him so much that she didn't want to live. She _wouldn't_ live for me. I needed her, but it wasn't enough for her."

Draco shakes violently. "_I need her_."

Charlie places a hand on Draco's cheek and forces Draco to look at him. "I know, my dragon. I know," he whispers softly. Draco's steel eyes meet Charlie's blue ones. Charlie sees the anger and the hurt swirling in them. It makes Charlie's heart hurt for the young man in front of him. He know all too well about loss and grief. "But you'll get through it. We'll get through it together," he corrects himself.

He brushes his lips against Draco's softly, hoping to convey comfort. Draco takes all the comfort that Charlie has to offer, weaving his fingers through Charlie's red hair. Draco pulls Charlie closer, holding on to him as if he would fall otherwise. Charlie wraps his arms around Draco waist, ensuring that if he did fall, Charlie would be there to catch him.

**A/n – so many thanks to my wonderful wife, Paula, for beta-ing this for me. OTP boot camp: prompt – calm (more implied like calm down)**


	2. the aftermaths - AlbusScorpius

Even though I know that you dislike the next-gen, we both know that you can't resist this pairing.

Albus/Scorpius

.

"_the aftermaths"_

Albus averts his eyes as Scorpius comes in the room. Even though he'll deny it, Albus has been avoiding Scorpius because being around him _hurts_. All Albus can think about is what happened before everything fell apart. When he closes his eyes at night, he can still taste Scorpius, still feel his hands tracing goosebumps across his skin.

He wonders what happened; he wonders where it all went wrong. When the loving touches became meaningless stares. When they went from lovers to best friends again. But Albus wouldn't classify them as best friends because they aren't like they used to be. They don't laugh with each other. They can hardly stay in the same room without the tension trying to kill them.

And pretending that he still doesn't love Scorpius makes his heart ache.

Scorpius sits at the top of his bed, his back leaning against his headboard. He digs through his bag and takes out his homework. "Have you done the Potions essay?" he asks, pulling out his quill and ink.

Albus doesn't lift his eyes. "A couple days ago," he replies softly. He chews on the end of his quill, contemplating his next sentence for the Transfiguration homework.

"Can I see what you wrote? I'm stuck on the properties of Porcupine Quills does for the potion," Scorpius says, pulling out his Potions book.

_That's the final straw_, Albus thinks. "Stop that," he growls. He looks up, staring at Scorpius, who is wearing a confused look. Before Scorpius can say anything, he continues. "Stop pretending that we can just go back to the way it was. Because it's not working. We're fooling ourselves if we think we can be friends again after everything."

Scorpius puts aside his assignment, giving Albus his full attention. "Then what do you want? Do you want us to be enemies? Or would you rather that we just pretend that we were never friends in the first place?" he asks coolly.

Albus runs his hand through his already messy hair. "I don't know. But this isn't working. I can't do this. I can't be friends with someone I still love," he replies, frustrated. If he was standing, he would be pacing. "It isn't fair to you, much less me."

"I know," he assures Albus. It's as close to an apology as he'll give, but it's enough for Albus.

Albus drops his gaze and continuous on with his homework. Scorpius doesn't say anything more. As much as Albus hates the silence between them, he knows that it's worse when Scorpius talks to him. It's for the best, and they both know it. Being friends with exes is never a good idea.

**A/n – thanks so much to my sweetie, Paula, for beta-ing this!**


	3. crashing down - GeorgeAngelina

The thing with this pairing is that it will always be angsty, no matter what.

George/Angelina

.

"_crashing down"_

She promises that she knows the difference between who Fred was and who George is.

(She lies.)

She whispers, "I love you, George," in the middle of the night, but she always says his name just a fraction of a second later, as if she's reminding herself it isn't Fred.

(He pretends not to notice.)

But it's when she calls Fred's name out in the middle of the night, in her sleep, that George can't pretend. He can't pretend that it's him that she truly loves. He lies awake wondering how much different he is from Fred. He wonders why she can't love him the way he loves her.

It's these nights that he feels like he's second best, like he'll always be second best in her eyes to a brother who isn't alive, who he wishes like crazy was alive. It's when she calls out a name that isn't his that George feels guilty. Feels guilty about stealing her because she isn't his, not really at least. She will always belong to Fred.

They both need comfort, though. He's the closest thing to Fred that she'll ever get. She's the only other one that saw the Fred he saw, and that's the closest he'll ever get to what made Fred smile. They cling to each other because it's easier than falling apart. Together, they can pretend that the cracks in their foundations are fixed, that they are sturdy.

One wrong move, however, and it can all come tumbling down, down, down.

He falls asleep, knowing that she doesn't love him like he wants her to. He knows that Fred will always be her first love, her only true love, and that he's just a filler, second best. But oddly enough, he's okay with it.

He loves her like Fred loved her. And somehow, that should be enough for them to gain steady ground, to fix the cracks in their foundations.

(Yet it isn't.)

One wrong move and it comes crashing down, down, down. And they can't do anything about it.

**A/n – thanks so much for my lovely, Paula, for beta-ing this. **


	4. changing everything - PercyAudrey

The first pairing out of these that I actually swayed you on, even though we both know what a die-hard shipper of Percy/Oliver you are. This is because we both know that Oliver is what schoolboy!Percy needs and Audrey is what post war!Percy needs.

Percy/Audrey

.

"_changing everything"_

"Audrey," he says tentatively, which gets your attention rather quickly. You turn to him, and hum your response. "We need to talk," he finally whispers. He nervously twists the wedding band on his hand, and you have a feeling that you're not going to like the talk.

You meet his blue eyes with a fierce stare. "Yes?" you reply, prompting him.

Unable to maintain your stare, he glances down, watching himself twist the gold band. It takes a while before he talks. "I'm a wizard," he says.

You laugh. "That's a good one, Perce. But wizards don't exist. You should know that," you answer. But he doesn't laugh. You furrow your eyebrows at him.

He doesn't look up. "I'm being serious, Audrey," he assures you, and his voice holds no hint of a joke. "If you don't believe me, I'll prove to you," he adds on as an afterthought.

"Show me then," you demand, waving your arms toward him.

You watch as he carefully draws a stick out of his pocket. It's around ten inches in length and darkly colored. You study the stick for a moment before he moves it in a complex motion, muttering, _"Accio_ book." A book comes flying from the shelf across the room. For a few moments, you're in awe.

Then you become angry. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" you demand, your eyes flashing. You thought you knew him. You thought, after being together for over a year, that you knew everything about him. But now, you wonder if you even knew him at all**.** "What? Did you not trust me?"

He hangs his head. "I wanted to, believe me, but I couldn't," he replies. He glances up, meeting your eyes for the first time. "There are… laws that prevent me from telling Mugg- non-magic folks about my magic."

That diffuses your anger quickly. "And now, I'm not allow to tell anyone either?" you ask.

He nods sadly. "I know it's a lot to take in, Audrey. But please believe me when I tell you that I've wanted to tell you about this since we started dating."

"I understand, Percy," you murmur. And you do understand. He was following the law. But it doesn't make it any easier to digest. "I just need some time."

"Whatever you need," he assures you.

You place a kiss on his cheek and leave him alone in the bedroom. You curl up in the armchair in the living room, and connect the dots. You remember the subtle things – saying weird terms or appearing out of nowhere. Him being a wizard – as weird as that sounds in your head – makes sense; it connects everything together.

What you don't like is the fact that you didn't know before you married him. It's going to change everything in your relationship, and you're not sure if you can handle it.

**A/n – so many thanks to my darling wife, Paula, for beta-ing this for me.**


	5. broken promise - ErnieJustin

The second pairing that I swayed you on, and I'm rather proud of achieving that.

Ernie/Justin

.

"_broken promises"_

Ernie crushes the offending paper in his hand. Sitting next to him is Hannah. She had been reading over his shoulder, and he knows that she knows. _Justin is gone_. _He isn't coming back. _

A tear streaks down Ernie's face, and before he knows it, his shoulders are shaking with the force of his sobs. Hannah wraps her arms around him even though she is in tears herself, pulling him as close to her own body as she possibly can. She can feel the wetness of Ernie's cheek against her neck as she strokes his hair softly.

She holds him, never once letting go. She holds him for hours, until his tears subside and his shoulders stop shaking. He pulls back from the embrace, meeting her bloodshot eyes with his own. "Why him?" he questions. His voice speaks of injustice and his face speaks of unbearable sadness.

"I don't know," she murmurs. Her blonde curls bounce as she shakes her head. "I just don't know, Ernie."

Ernie averts his gaze. "You know, I didn't tell him. I knew this might happen but I didn't tell him that I love him – as more than just a friend. I thought, if I didn't, that he would have to come back for me to tell him," he says.

Hannah gives him a sad smile. "I'm sure he knew. You two were dancing around each other. There's no way he didn't know," she assures him, stroking his blond hair.

He closes his eyes. "But I didn't tell him. And I should've. He should've known. Now, I'll never get the chance to," he growls, frustrated. Suddenly, he's angry. He stands up from where Hannah sat them and paces back and forth. "He promised he would come back. _He promised_."

Standing in Ernie's way, Hannah puts her hands on his shoulders, effectively stopping him. "This isn't going to bring him back, Ernie. Being angry at him isn't right. He shouldn't have made that promise in the first place. I'm sure he tried his best, did everything he could to come to us, to you. He loved you, for Merlin's sake."

She watches the anger fade out of Ernie, leaving only hurt in its wake. He slumps in defeat, a fresh wave of tears flowing down his already tear-stained face. All Hannah is able to do is murmur, "He knew," and, "We'll get through this," into his hair.

**A/n – thanks to my fabulous wife, Paula, for beta-ing this for me.**


	6. scars talk - DracoHarry

Though I can't completely blame my liking of this pairing on you, your multichap definitely helps.

Draco/Harry

.

"_scars talk"_

He's always had this unmarred, perfect kind of beauty; all marble sculpted edges and stone cold eyes, and so it shouldn't shock you when he finally lets you in. After all, you are the one that did this. But you're still shocked.

He stands in front of you, shirtless and with guarded eyes, allowing you to see what you did to him. You take a step toward him, and trace the faint white line above his heart. There's dozens more like that one that marred his pale chest, none are more than an inch in length. They are scattered across his torso like an unfinished abstract painting.

This is the product of the spell you used without knowing what it did, what it caused. This is what happened because you caught him at a moment of weakness, of vulnerability and neither of you knew how to handle it. While both of you are to blame, you feel guilty. Because you were the one that cast the spell that caused invisible knives to pierce his skin.

You meet his eyes, as if asking his permission, before you move to trace the other scars. You slowly, gingerly trace them one by one, as if you're apologizing for them. You draw patterns on his skin using his scars. And he lets you.

You place your hand over his heart and look up to meet his eyes. But this time, instead of looking away, you hold his gaze. "You're beautiful," you whisper, even though you know he doesn't want to hear it, that he doesn't believe it. Leaning forward, you press your lips gently against his. "So beautiful," you murmur against them.

He growls. But you don't apologize, because you mean it and you'll never apologize for something you mean so full-heartedly. He kisses you harder, digging his fingers into your skin. He's trying to prove that he's not weak, that those scars don't mean anything to him. But you know they do.

They remind him of the deeds he's done, and the things he had no choice in. They remind him of a time when he was weak and vulnerable, and he doesn't like it. He moves your hand from his chest, and you don't bother to move them back. You kiss him back, allowing all thoughts of scars to slip in back of your mind.

That discussion is for another day and time.

**A/n – thanks so much to my magnifique wife, Paula, who not only beta'd this for me, but she gave me the opening paragraph. For the Favorite House Boot Camp – scar. **


	7. foreknowledge is a horrible thing - OC

I promised you that I would write this so you weren't fic-ing your own fic.

Waters/Xander

.

"_foreknowledge is a horrible thing"_

It's only after Michael secures the last suspected Death Eater that he turns toward his partner. His partner wobbles on his feet before losing his balance. Michael's quick reflexes allow him to catch the dark haired man. "Xander?" he asks as the other man's eyes close. "Open your eyes," he says, his desperation leaking through his façade. But Xander doesn't.

He pulls Xander closer, trying to find the source of the bleeding. He finds several cuts across Xander's pale chest and arms. He pulls out his wand and tries to heal them to the best of his ability, but the wounds just won't close. "Damn it," he growls. "Where are the reinforcements?" His question doesn't get answered. He knew it wouldn't.

He can feel the warmth draining from Xander's body, and he knows there's not much he can do. The cuts are laced with dark magic that he hasn't encountered before. He doesn't know how to heal it and he can't take Xander to St. Mungo's because he can't leave the prisoners by themselves.

The only thing he can do is watch as the life seeps out of Xander at a steady pace. The conjured bandages are soaked in blood and he can't change them for fear that the bleeding will pick up. He resorts to stroking Xander's brown curls. He's angry. He can't save him, and he knows it.

"Damn it," he curses again. "Why did you jump in front of that curse?" he questions. He keeps his tone carefully in check.

"Because your shield failed and you didn't see him," Xander replies, slightly frightening Michael. As he talks, blood gathers in his mouth. His face twists in pain. Michael's hand moves from stroking his hair, to tracing his cheek lightly.

"Don't speak."

But Michael's order goes unnoticed. "And I couldn't let that happen." They both know what Xander is referring to: _I couldn't let you die_. Xander coughs up blood, and grimaces. "I love –,"

"Don't you dare," Michael cuts him off, his voice low and rough. "We're not doing that because _you're not going to die._" He puts as much emphasize on last five words as he can. He refuses to lose Xander. Xander is the other half of him; he completes him, not only in the field but in everyday life.

Through the pain evident on Xander's face – because Michael could never completely teach Xander to disguise his emotions – he sees a trace of a smile and a laugh. He knows that if Xander could laugh without pain, that he would. "I thought I was supposed to be the sentimental one," he teases, several pauses throughout as he speaks through the blood and pain.

Despite himself, Michael laughs. But his laugh fades quickly as Xander coughs up more blood. He feels helpless because there's nothing he can do to ease Xander's pain. He watches as Xander's breaths become shallower and more labored. Before long, his breathing stops altogether.

"Xander!" he cries out in frustration. "Come on, breathe! Damn it, breathe!" He tries spells to force the blood out of Xander's throat and lungs and even Muggle CPR, but it isn't enough to get him to start breathing again.

He presses a kiss against Xander's slightly cold lips. He murmurs, "I love you too, Xander," in his ear before he moves Xander's head out of his lap.

A few minutes later, he hears the sounds of six pops. He gets to his feet. "Where were you?" he shouts, but he knows that it won't bring Xander back. The six Aurors look at him, but he just Apparates away to the safety of their shared flat. He's assaulted with the smell of Xander and the dam breaks.

**A/n – thanks to my rockstar wife, Paula, for beta-ing this even though she had no idea what was going on.**


	8. giving up pretenses - ParvatiLavender

This pairing is just beautiful.

Lavender/Parvati

.

"_giving up pretenses"_

You're rushing to find her as a man who isn't really a man stands in your way. He stands about six feet taller than your five foot two frame and his body is covered a thin layer of dark fur. You raise your wand tentatively, but it just causes him to laugh at you. It's a bitter, twisted laugh that sends chills up your spine.

You glance around, trying to find a way out. That makes him laugh again and he gets closer, almost nuzzling your neck. "Where do you think you're going, princess?" he says. You flinch away from him, his words chilling you to your very core.

When you don't answer him, he gives up all pretenses and jumps toward you. You don't have time to move out his way. You crumple to the ground under the weight of his body, causing your wand to fly out of your grip. It lands beyond your reach, and you can't move because of his weight against your body.

You look at him defiantly, thinking that if he's going to kill you, he's going to have to look you in the eyes. But in his eyes, you see a twisted pleasure in them. "This is going to fun. I haven't had this much fun in weeks, princess," he says.

He traces down from your hairline. As his clawed fingers touch you, he digs in, ripping your skin apart. Excruciating pain tears through your body like nothing that you've ever felt before. You open your mouth, but no sounds come out. His left hand moves to your side, clawing at the uniform you still wear; his claws rip through it easily, meeting your skin.

Your vision goes white with pain. And you feel him fall atop of you. You try to push him off you, but you are weak from blood lost. "Oh my Merlin! Lav! Hold on!" you hear someone call out. The sound is like music to your ears.

As you try to focus your eyes, Parvati comes into view. You watch as horror crosses her beautiful face. "What did he do to you?" she asks softly as she presses something against your cold skin. You groan in pain.

You try to talk, but it hurts your right side of your face so you stop. You just look up at her helplessly. "Hold on. Madam Pomfrey will be here shortly." You nod slightly, and remain still. You don't need to lose any more blood than you have already. Parvati grabs your hand and holds on until Madam Pomfrey gets there.

You fade in and out of consciousness as she works on you. "There's nothing I can do for her," you hear. And realization hits you hard. Because of that wolfish man who enjoys pain and torture so much, you won't have the rest of your life. He stole that from you.

Reaching your hand up, you manage, "Par." You watch as she freezes at the sound of your strained voice.

"I'm here, Lav. I'm here," she assures you, taking your hand in her own. Tears streak down her face.

You remove your hand from hers, and wipe the tears from her face. "D-don't cry," you groan. "P-please."

She takes your hand from her face and kisses it. "I'm crying because you're –," she breaks off, unable to finish her sentence. "I don't want to lose you," she whispers through her tears. She moves to stroke your hair as she's always done to comfort you, but you flinch away. "I love you, Lav. Always have."

She says that as if you didn't know. But you did. You always knew. "I l-love you too," you assure her.

She leans down and presses her lips against yours, careful to miss your mangled cheek. It's the first kiss the two of you shared, and it's, unfortunately, going to be the last one, too. It makes your heart hurt more than the wounds that mangle your face. You won't be able to spend forever with the girl you love.

And then everything goes black.

**A/n – so many thanks to my love, Paula, for beta-ing this for me. **


	9. looks can be deceiving - RegulusRemus

Again, you are to blame for my love of this pairing. But that's nothing new.

Remus/Regulus

.

"_looks can be deceiving"_

Regulus sits on the Astronomy Tower, his eyes closed and a cigarette between his lips. The door to the tower opens as Regulus finishes his cigarette. He opens his eyes and watches as Remus takes a seat next to him. There are no words exchanged as Remus presses his lips against Regulus in a demanding kiss.

But Regulus breaks it quickly. He didn't come here for that tonight. "I'm not my brother," Regulus whispers, breaking their unspoken agreement.

Remus furrows his eyebrows. "I know," he replies quickly.

"No," Regulus says with a slight shake of his head. "I don't think you do." When Remus tries to protest, Regulus cuts him off. "We both know that you're in love with my brother, Remus. And no matter how hard you try to believe, I can't be him." Regulus stares out at the forest, unable to meet Remus' wondering eyes.

The silence that falls is deafening. Regulus wants him to prove that he's not being used, that he's not a replacement for something that Remus can't have. He knows that Remus won't refute his statement because it's true. And Regulus hates the fact the he let Remus in so far that, with each passing second, the silence hurts more.

Remus forces Regulus to look at him. "You may look like your brother, but I know the difference. I don't come here because I can't have him. I come here for _you_," he murmurs. Remus eyes meet Regulus' eyes, and he sees disbelief swimming in them. Remus reaches out to stroke Regulus' cheek, but Regulus shies away.

He closes his eyes. "I won't be second best," he growls. "I _won't_."

"You're not," Remus whispers. When Remus moves to stroke his cheek again, this time, Regulus doesn't shrink back. "I promise you that you're not second best. I care about you." Remus wasn't planning on saying that since he knows that Regulus doesn't _do_ emotions well, but Remus needs him to know the truth.

"So if you actually had the choice between me and my brother, who would you choose?" Regulus asks. Regulus knows that it's a low blow; he just can't find it in himself to care because he knows, without Remus answering, who he would choose.

Remus shakes his head. "Don't do that," he pleads. "That isn't fair."

Regulus nods. "That's what I thought." He stands up and turns his back on Remus. Before he can go, Remus grabs ahold of his arm, preventing him from leaving. Regulus turns back to Remus, anger and hurt flashing in his eyes. "No matter what you say, Remus, you will always pick him over me. And I _won't_ be second best, especially not because of him."

Remus quickly drops his hand. "I'm sorry," he says. He closes the space between them and presses a chaste kiss to Regulus' lips, before leaving Regulus alone.

He lets Remus walk away, an apology on his lips.

**A/n – so many thanks to my amazing wife, Paula, for beta-ing this! Family boot camp: prompt – caring (care)**


	10. the consequences - BillCharlie

The third and final pairing that I swayed you on. We both know I have a Charlie obsession, and because of you, I love 'cest. It's the best of both worlds.

Bill/Charlie

.

"_the consequences"_

You purposely wait until the last possible minute to arrive at the Burrow. You have spent the last hour pacing around your flat because you knew this moment would come. As you stand in the bedroom you used to share with your older brother as a child, your eyes rake over Bill's appearance.

He's dressed in his best dress robes. His hair combed back and a smile on his scarred face. You watch as he struggles to tie his tie. Taking pity on him, you turn him around with a, "Here, let me."

You don't dare to look into his, because you can't be held accountable for your actions if you do. Instead, you keep your eyes firmly on the tie as you fix it. It takes several minutes, but you finally get it to perfection. You take a step back, still not looking him in the eyes, and murmur, "That's better."

"Thanks," he whispers. You take a risk and meet that familiar pair of blue eyes. You see happiness swimming in them. It makes your heart hurt slightly. But he must see the desire in your eyes because he says firmly, "No, Charlie."

But you don't listen. Because it's better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission. You press your lips against his. They taste exactly how you remember – sunshine and coffee. And you think that he's never tasted better. You pull back after a while, and whisper, "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm really not."

He doesn't say anything. There's a loud knock on the bedroom door, and you hear your mother call, "It's time, Bill!"

"I'm coming!" he calls back. And you listen as your mother makes her way down the stairs. Bill turns to you. He presses his lips to yours in a quick, nearly bruising kiss. "You know, this doesn't mean that I don't still love you."

You don't know how he knows that's what you're afraid of, and you're half expecting him to say, "I'm your brother, Char; I always know these things." But he doesn't. Instead, he continues on with, "I do love you. But I love her too."

There's another impatient knock on the door. "Bill, you're going to be late for your wedding if you don't get out here now," you hear your mother call again.

"Are you ready?" you ask him. And he nods. You open the door and follow Bill out of your room and right out of the house.

You take your place next to Bill as his best man. And every emotion you've been trying to contain hits you full force. He's getting married. He's sharing himself with someone who isn't you. She gets to see what only you have – the good and the bad. Jealousy flares in you, but you take a deep breath. You smother your emotions because now is not the time to break.

As much as you want to look away while Bill and Fleur share their first kiss as husband and wife, you don't. You count to ten and pretend that it's his lips on yours. It's just enough to stop you from breaking completely.

It's only when you get home that you crumble. The only though on your mind is, "_I do love you. But I love her too_."

**A/n – so many thanks to my awesome wife, Paula, for beta-ing this for me.**


	11. unconditional love - PadmaParvati

While I haven't actually thought about this pairing before, I thought I would write it for you.

Parvati/Padma

.

"_unconditional love"_

You wake up, instinctively knowing something is wrong. A few seconds later, your sister's screams pierce the night. You throw the blanket off you, and make your way to her room. You push open the door.

Her room is dark, shadowed, but you can still make out her figure on the bed. She's tossing back and forth causing her blankets to tangle at her feet. As you move closer, you see a look of distress on her beautiful features. You climb closer to her and see her immediately relaxing. You stroke her dark hair softly. You lean down to her ear and whisper, "Par." When she doesn't stir, you say her name several more times.

You watch as her chocolate eyes open. She stares at you, tears welling in her eyes. You wordlessly open your arms, allowing her to nestle her head against your neck. You stroke her hair as you feel her hot tears on your neck. "I miss her, Pad," she sobs. She knows she doesn't have to tell you because you know how much she's hurting.

"I know," you whisper softly, sadly. You miss Stephen like she misses Lavender. You know that she loved Lavender with all her heart. You loved Stephen so much too. Now, there's a hole in both of your hearts caused by their deaths. "I know," you repeat.

She moves out of your arms. Her bloodshot eyes meet yours, and you think that she's never looked more beautiful with tear-streaks on her cheeks and her dark hair messy. "Make it stop, Pad," she whimpers brokenly. "Please make it stop."

You thread your fingers through her hair, and lean in. You capture her lips with your own. You kiss her hard, making it so you are the only thought on her mind. It's the only way you know how to stop the pain. She clings to you, kissing you back desperately. You want to make her forget just for a moment, and you can tell by the way she's responding that she is forgetting.

When you pull away, you rest your forehead against hers. You keep your eyes closed as you catch your breath. After a while, you open your eyes. You meet her eyes again, but this time, you don't see the overwhelming sadness swirling in them. She blinks sleepily. "Go to sleep, Par," you whisper softly.

Her eyes flutter shut. You move to leave, but she grabs your arm. "Please stay, Pad," she begs softly. Unable to deny her, you wrap your arms around her waist as her head lies on your shoulder. As you fall asleep, you know that she understands that you will always be there for her, because being sisters means unconditional love.

**A/n – thanks so much to my dear, Paula, for beta-ing this for me. **


	12. when the pain becomes unbearable - RegSi

This one is new to me, but I know you love it so who am I to deny you?

Regulus/Sirius

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"_when the pain becomes unbearable"_

You sit in your bedroom, trying to drown out the sounds of your parents hurting him. It's been going on for what seems like days, when it's really only been hours. You desperately want to stand up for him, to stand in their way, but he made you swear you wouldn't. He said he didn't want you to hurt for him, because of him.

But the sounds of his screams pierce through you, cutting you to your very soul. You regret making the promise now because all you want to do is protect him. His torment is finally over, and you breathe a sigh of relief. You don't know how much longer you could've just sat there and listened.

He comes into your bedroom without knocking. Your gray eyes meet a familiar pair and he gives you a grin. It's pained, but it's a grin nonetheless. Sweat causes his shaggy hair to cling to his neck and there's a bruise forming against the pale canvas of his cheek.

You trace the forming bruise with your fingertips. But he grabs your wrist, preventing you from continuing your actions. He doesn't want comfort. In his eyes, you see a sort of desperation that you've never seen there before. It's laced with a sadness that you can't place. Before you can try to understand, he crashes his lips against yours, seeking a feeling of love that he doesn't experience often.

He lets go of your wrist in order to dig his fingertips into your sides. This is different than it usually is. His lips don't promise love; they're desperate, as if he's dying man and you're oxygen. He kisses you like it's the last time your lips will meet, and he's memorizing the feeling. And it confuses you but you don't say a word.

He pushes you onto the bed, and you don't remember a time when he's been this rough. He's usually gentle. But tonight, he's aggressive, and you let him. Yet, even though it's rough, he takes it slowly, worshipping your body as if it was god himself. It makes you feel loved, needed. He always makes you feel like that.

When he thinks you're asleep, he brushes the top of your head with his lips. "I love you, Reg," he whispers. "And I'm sorry."

You peer up at him through drowsy eyes. "What's going on, Siri?"

He doesn't meet your curious stare as he brushes back your hair. "Nothing," he assures you. "Go back to sleep."

You curl closer to him, drawing the heat from his body to keep yourself warm. And despite your best tries, you fall asleep, clinging to him. When you wake up, he isn't in your bed. Downstairs, your parents wear a smirk of satisfaction and realization dawns on you. Sirius was saying his goodbyes to you last night. That was the last time you would feel his lips against your own. It would be last time you will feel loved, cared for, needed.

And a part of you hates the fact that he wouldn't stay for you.

**A/n – thanks to my beautiful wife, Paula, for beta-ing this for me! Slytherin boot camp: prompt – unexpected (implied)**


	13. echoes - PercyOliver

Here's the pairing that started our friendship, and eventual marriage, in the first place:

Percy/Oliver

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"_echoes"_

You see him on the street of Diagon Alley. It's been a while since you've been in London. You've been training non-stop for the past three months, and haven't had the chance to come by. But there he is, walking hand-in-hand with a quite pretty blonde. And it just makes your heart break.

It has been nearly a year since your mutual split, but it doesn't mean that your heart has mended. You love him, more than you thought was possible. But seeing him with someone who isn't you is nearly unbearable. Still, unfortunately, you need to grab the items you came to Diagon Alley for.

You try to slip past him without him seeing you, but you're not that lucky. You've never been that lucky. His blue eyes meet yours and all the memories you've been trying to bury resurface. You remember the feeling of his lips against yours when Gryffindor won the Quidditch Cup for the first time during your Hogwarts years. You remember the feeling of having him in your arms.

But with all the good memories come the bad. You remember fighting and arguing. You remember letting him go because he wasn't happy and you couldn't make him happy anymore. You remember the taste of that last bittersweet kiss. You remember going to practice even though you'd rather just drown your sorrows away.

He waves at you, and despite your best thoughts, you stop. "Oliver!" he says smiling, but his smile is hollow – as are his eyes. You've never seen him this broken before, but you've heard that Fred's death hit him hard. Before you can greet him, he motions to the girl next to him. "This is Audrey, my girlfriend," he introduces, but he stumbles ever-so-slightly on the last word. "Audrey, this is Oliver, my best friend from Hogwarts."

She smiles at you, oblivious to the tension between you and Percy. "It's nice to meet you. Percy tells me a lot about you!" You take her hand and shake it, unwilling to be rude. She's nice enough and she's quite pretty, but you still can't help but hate her.

You meet Percy's eyes. "It's my pleasure," you whisper. "But I got to go. I need to pick up a few things before practice tonight," you lie. Percy raises his eyebrows because he knows that you're lying, yet he doesn't say anything.

She gives you a hug, which surprises you. You give Percy a look, deciding whether it would be a good idea to touch him. He makes the decision for you. He pulls you into a hug that is just as bittersweet as your last one. There's so many things that you want to tell him – _I miss you; I need you; I still love you with every part of my heart_ – but you say none of it. Instead, you whisper, "I hope she treats you better than I."

With that, you give Audrey a smile and say your goodbyes. You leave Percy in the middle of the street, a sadness in his eyes that echo the sadness in your heart.

**A/n – thanks so much to my terrific wife, Paula, for beta-ing this for me. **


	14. bad memories - RabastanRodolphus

I used to swear I'd never write 'cest of any kind, until I read your Rab/Rod.

Rabastan/Rodolphus

.

"_bad memories"_

You're curled up in the corner of your cell. You wrap your thin jacket around yourself, trying to get warm, but it's useless because you're always cold. You close your eyes, trying to catch sleep in between the Dementors' shift, but it doesn't come easily. Every time you close your eyes, you're assaulted by your memories.

You remember the feeling of too big hands on your skin, like burning sins deep into you. You remember feeling of his lips against your neck, murmuring words of praise that you so rarely hear from him. You remember the taste of your tears as you begged him to stop because he shouldn't be doing this to you. He shouldn't be showing his love for you this way.

You snap your eyes open, trying desperately to recall what happened after your father left you that night. But all memories of Rodolphus holding you, of him drying your tears, of him whispering words of comfort in your ears don't come. They are overpowered by the bad memories.

The sound of thunder causes you to stand, and inspect the outside of your small cell. You can barely see anything. The thunder sounds closer to you. You realize it isn't thunder as the bricks to your cell blast away. It's the first time in too long that you've seen the sky, seen anything besides the four walls that always surrounded you. The frigid air whips at you. It's been a long time since you've felt the wind on your face, and you stand there, allowing it attack you. You grin.

"Rabastan?" you hear. You turn toward the voice, opening your eyes. In front of you stands your brother. Azkaban has been kinder to him than it has been to you. His black hair sticks to his forehead, and his light eyes shine with a hunger you haven't seen in years. But if you look beyond the hunger you can see the emptiness that time in Azkaban has left; he's just better at hiding it than you are.

You see a flicker of a smirk cross your brother's face. "Rodolphus," you murmur. He pulls you close to him, and you sigh in relief. The heaviness on your heart is lifting with each moment you spend with your arms wrapped around your brother. You lean up and press your lips softly to his because you don't know any other way to show your appreciation.

He cups your cheek and kisses you back just as gently before he pulls away. "Come on, the Dark Lord is waiting."

You nod and allow him to lead you away. You walk with him, trying to rid yourself of all your haunting memories.

**A/n – thanks so much to my fabulous wife, Paula, for beta-ing this for me. Slytherin boot camp: prompt – emptiness.**


	15. pull your scarf close - DeanSeamus

You remember telling me that you were angry that I had never wrote a Deamus? Here you are!

Dean/Seamus

.

"_pull your scarf close"_

You wrap the red and gold scarf around your neck, and grab your pack. It's time to move again. It's always time to move. You can't stay still for more than a few hours in fear of the Snatchers finding you. You arouse the others, and smother the fire. Within moments, the four of you are on your way.

There's no speaking. You can't afford to talk because Snatchers can be close by. You walk until you all grow tired. When that happens, you sit down your pack and go to collect firewood while Dirk gathers some berries from nearby bushes and the goblins gather water.

The sound of twigs snapping alerts you. You freeze where you stand, the firewood still in your hands. You hear voices that are clearly not Dirk's nor the goblins. Panic rises in your chest. Your wand is in your pocket, out of your reach. And if you attempt to grab your wand will alert them of your position.

Without moving too much, you glance through the trees towards where the others are. Even from this far away, you can see Dirk. He's staring directly at you, pretending that he's uninterested in the Snatcher. He nods his head slightly, and you know what he's silently saying to you.

_Get yourself out_.

You watch as one of the Snatchers questions Dirk. When Dirk doesn't answer, they turn to look behind. Dirk jerks his head, and you drop the firewood as quickly as possible. As one of the Snatchers heads toward you, the other Snatcher kills Dirk. Without hesitation, you pull out your wand and Apparate away.

Once you land on your feet, you fall to the ground. Over the weeks, you've come to enjoy Dirk's presence. He reminds you quite a bit of _him_, your best friend. At that thought, a wave of grief washes over you and your heart aches fiercely. You miss Seamus; more than you thought was possible.

You hear a pop, and immediately cast a Disillusion spell on yourself. "Dean?" you hear one of the goblins – Griphook, you think – say. You see the small goblin standing in the middle of clearing. You watch him look around, and quietly call your name several times.

You pull out your wand and pin him to the ground. He struggles but you point your wand at him anyways. It's better to be safe than sorry. "When I first met you, what did you say to me?"

The goblin quits struggling. "This war may be because of wizards, but goblins have chosen sides."

You roll off him. "Sorry, had to make sure," you say as you pocket your wand. You stand and grab for your pack. It's the first time you realize it's not with you. In your pack was your sketchbook, full of drawings of Seamus and empty pages that would have been drawings of him. Drawing is the only thing that kept you sane and now you don't even have that.

The wind picks up and you feel the cold biting at your face. You pull the scarf to cover your mouth and nose. Inhaling, you still smell the light scent of Seamus. It reminds you of home and happiness. And that's when you know that it'll be alright. You'll come home to him; you'll be able to tell him that you love him.

With that, you walk confidently, knowing that you'll be home soon.

**A/n – thanks to my lovely wife, Paula, for beta-ing this for me!**


	16. things that define them - RemusSirius

I once told you that this was one of the two pairings that you made me fall in love with that I had never _actually_ written. Well, I was saving it for this collection.

Sirius/Remus

.

"_things that define them"_

The man standing across from Remus is not Sirius, at least not _his_ Sirius. It's not the cheeky grin and starlit eyes that Remus has long ago associated with Sirius. The Sirius standing in front of him is a ghost, a merely shell of the man he used to be. When the Sirius smiles – because Remus can't bring himself to think of him as _Sirius_ – it's hollow.

If there's a trace of the man he was inside of this shell, Remus can't see it. He can hardly recognize the man in front of him. He's all dim eyes and jagged edges and _Merlin, what did Azkaban do to you_?

The Sirius reaches out and traces Remus' face with his thumb, tracing the new scars that have long since faded. His thumb is rough against Remus' skin, his hand shaking unsteadily. He traces _I should've been there _and _this is all my fault_ onto Remus' scars.

He gently kisses _I'm sorry_ and _this won't happen again_ and _I'll be there, I swear_ into them, letting them sink into Remus. But his steel eyes, hollow and empty, are saying _I don't know if I can be that person_ _again_.

The only thing lingering in Remus' pale eyes is _don't promise that _and_ don't say that_ and _it's all my fault_.

The Sirius takes one real look at Remus, and it's all it takes. His lips are on Remus' and Remus doesn't remember it feeling this way. The angle is wrong and the taste is different. Instead of pumpkin juice and unspoken love, he tastes of regrets and sorrow and _Merlin, I need you_. It doesn't remind him of _his_ Sirius at all. _His_ Sirius doesn't need anyone, much less Remus.

Remus digs his fingers into the Sirius' too predominant hip bones, and kisses _we'll be okay _and _we'll get through this_ over and over again. But all he gets in return is _we're too different, now_. He kisses harder, pulling the Sirius across the invisible divide. Remus digs _this doesn't define us_ into his hip bones and showers promises of _I won't let it_ onto his skin.

For the first time in twelve years, Remus looks at the man in front of him, broken and, in more ways than just one, defeated. He sees a ghost of the laugh on his face and a shimmer in his eyes. In that moment, he sees _his_ Sirius and knows everything might just be alright.

**A/n – so many thanks to my fantastique wife, Paula, for beta-ing this for me! For the your favorite house boot camp: smile. **


	17. what divides them - JohnSherlock

You're the reason that I even know the wonderfulness of this pairing.

John/Sherlock

.

"_what divides them"_

It has been too long, Sherlock thinks as he really _looks_ at the man before him. Years on the run, years of protecting, hiding, surviving; it's changed both of them, and he's not stupid enough to think otherwise.

But his hair is still cut military style and there's the slight tremor in his right hand as has always been there. His eyes, though, speaks of anger and betrayal and _is this even real? _ Sherlock takes a step toward him, brushing a finger across his cheek, caressing _this is real_ and _please believe me _against it.

Sherlock knows what is going to happen next because he knows John, but he doesn't try to prevent it. John's _you fucking bastard_ collides with Sherlock's nose. Sherlock grabs at his nose, trying to stop the bleeding. But John shoves his hand away. John soothes _I'm sorry_ and _oh, God, what have I done?_

Sherlock grabs John's wrist, preventing him from continuing. He meets John's blue eyes with _it's alright_ and _I deserved it_. He pulls John closer, pressing _I missed you _and _I forgot how much I need you_ against John's too dry lips. John tastes of sorrow and heartbreak and _you broke me_.

He digs promises of _I'll heal you_ and _I'll never leave you again_ into John's arms. John tenses with _don't promise that _on his skin and _this still isn't okay_ in his eyes. It's the first time that Sherlock has felt the divide between them, the invisible valley that separates them. That barrier wasn't there before and Sherlock knows that he's the reason it is.

But he doesn't give up. He showers _but I love you_ on his skin and pulls him toward _I'm never going to leave again, I swear_. Every time John's skin screams _no_, he kisses _yes_ instead. It doesn't take much before John digs _don't leave me again_ and _I won't survive if you do_ into his sides.

He showers promises of _haven't you been listening? _and _we won't have to figure it out the hard way_, which John takes greedily.

Sherlock wakes with a start. Sherlock can still feel the promises of _forever_ and _I love you_ against his lips. He rubs his eyes and stretches. He's already lost four hours because of the need to sleep; he isn't going to waste anymore. In the mirror in the bathroom, his eyes whispers _I'll be home soon, John_.

**A/n – thanks so much to my gorgeous wife, Paula, for beta-ing this for me! And Ellaone for helping hammer out the finer details of this.**


	18. old habits die hard - HarryClara

Our muses are named after this next pairing. And, like this pairing, they love each other very much!

Harry/Clara

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"_old habits die hard"_

You glance up at the clock on the wall. It's passing three in the morning and she still isn't home. You sigh and get up. In the closet of the spare bedroom are boxes that you've been keeping there. Originally you didn't plan on using them. But tonight; tonight's the last straw.

Pulling out the boxes, you set about packing your things. You pack what's yours, and leave anything that you had bought together. With each thing you pack, the more your heart aches. You don't want to leave because you love her so much, but your relationship is a one-way street and you're not going to stand for that anymore. You refuse to. You refuse to be put on the back burner for some addiction.

It's nearing five in the morning, and you haven't slept. All of the things you call your own are in the boxes that you have already loaded into your car. You're sitting on the couch that she begged you to buy even though you hated it with a coffee in your hand, waiting for her to get home from the bar.

When she enters your house, she smells of alcohol and cigarettes, a smell that you aren't unfamiliar with. She stumbles to your bedroom, where you've purposefully left the dresser drawers open, and you watch as she freezes in the doorway. She turns back to you, and notices the empty spaces where your things used to be.

Her blue eyes sparkle with confusion. "What is going on?" she asks, her voice just slightly slurred.

You give her an apologetic look as you slip off your wedding and engagement rings. "I can't do this anymore," you whisper. "I can't come home to an empty house and wake up to an empty bed. I can't pretend this is alright when it is far from being okay." You place the rings in her hand. "And I'm so sorry."

You try to brush by her, but she grabs your hand. "Don't go, Clara," she begs. "Please. I'll change," she adds on. "I'll do anything for you to stay."

She looks desperate with her blue eyes glazing over with unshed tears and her hair clinging to her sweaty neck. But you know that, no matter what she says, she won't change. She's promised it before; she sworn she'd never take another drink. She always slips back into her old habits. And you won't put yourself through that again.

"Let's face it, Harry. We were never meant to be together," you tell her. "I'll always love you, but I can't do this. I can't take a backseat. And I know you say you'll stop, that you'll change. The thing is that I've heard you say those things a million times, and you still haven't."

She lets her hand drop. "I'm sorry," she says.

"I know."

Tears run down her face as you walk out the door, but you don't dare turn back. When you get inside your car, you let the tears you've been holding back fall. Leaving is hard, but staying is worse.

**A/n – so many thanks to my caring wife, Paula, for beta-ing this for me.**


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